Highlander: The Methos Chronicles
by NctrnlBst
Summary: Chapter Two: To Rule in Hell or Serve in Heaven? Follow the life of Methos as he recounts the adventures of his 5000 year history.
1. Prologue

This is a prologue for a fic that I was thinking about a few years ago, but never bothered to write. I was web surfing and came across a fan site petitioning for there to be a Methos centered Highlander spin off. Imagine my surprise when I found that I wasn't the only person to think of this. So here is the prologue, and based on the reviews, I'll decide whether or not to write out this fic.

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Out of the darkness, the sounds of clanging metal echo through the halls of my châteauin the French country side. The darkness is lighted by momentary sparks from clashing swords. In my many years, I have found that one gains a certain amount of clarity while engaged in life and death battle. You would think that, when fighting for your life, your mind would be centered on one objective only. Survival. Kill your opponent before they have a chance to kill you.

On the contrary, many Tao masters whom I have known say that you should keep your mind clear. You do not think. You react. That split second that you pause to think is more than enough time for your opponent to take your head. It is a dance, and like any dance, the more you practice, the more natural it feels.

I remember the first time I learned to dance. It was, at the time, the most awkward sensation that I have ever experienced. I was supposed to go one way, but my feet wanted to go another. However, the more I practiced the more natural it felt until I was able to do it without even thinking. The same is true when I first picked up a sword. He swings. I parry. I lunge. He dodges. The two of us, locked in a dance to the death.

He swings his barbarian style broad sword. The force of it hitting my blade almost knocks my sword out of my hand, and sends me falling backwards into my den. I quickly get up to my feet just in time to block another blow from this sword.

That thing hits like a ton of bricks, but there is really no skill involved in using a weapon like that. All brawn... No brains. From the looks of the condition of his sword, I would say that he probably bought the damn thing off of one of those sword websites. I wouldn't be surprised if the bloody thing had "Made in China" engraved on it. No matter where he got it, he knew what he was doing. I dodge his attack slashing into his side with my sword. On a normal immortal, a cut like that would have them doubled over, but this big brut keeps coming.

He is nearly half a foot taller than me and easily out weighs me by a hundred pounds. Despite his size, he is amazingly agile for a man his size. He lets out a scream as he lunges his sword at me again. He knocks my sword out of my hand and splinters my antique oak desk which is probably older than he is, in the process. I dive for my sword, but he hits me over the back of my head with the butt of his sword, and then kicks my sword into the next room.

He swings at me again. I dive out of the way, and kick out his legs from beneath of him. He tumbles to the ground, and I make a break to the other room to get my sword. He reaches up, grabs my leg and effortlessly throws me across the room.

He gets back up to his feet, and stalks after me. I lay in the corner of the den. My head is throbbing from that blow that he gave me to the back of my head.

He slowly walks towards me. He is clutching his side, where I cut into him earlier. Judging from the blood stain on his clothes, he is probably feeling pretty light headed due to the loss of blood. He holds his side with one hand and is dragging his sword with the other. He positions himself over me to make the deathblow. He musters what is left of his strength, and with both hands lifts his sword high above his head. I'm pretty much out of it, but I look up at him and see a smirk on his face. I know what he is thinking. It is what they all think. "I am going to be the immortal who takes the head of the mighty Methos." Taking that split second is where he has made his mistake.

I kick has hard as I can, Smashing both his knee caps. He lets out a shout as he drops his sword next to me and falls to the ground. I get to my feet, and pick up his sword. I take a second to think…. No! I almost make the same mistake. I swing his broad sword, cutting off his head, and embedding his sword into the wooden floor.

The darkness of the château begins to fade as his life essence rises from his decapitated body, and the quickening begins. I let out a blood curdling yell as bolts of lightning shoot through the house, lifting me up into the air. His jumbled memories filter into my brain. The antique books on the shelves, one of which is one of the original bibles printed on Guttenberg's printing press, burst into flames. The large picture window looking out into my gardens shatters as another bolt of lightning shoots into me. My body is wracked with pain as the full force of the quickening enters into my body. I am slowly lowered back to the ground as the quickening finally begins to end.

I've taken a lot of heads in my time. I don't even care anymore really. One of the luxuries of being a watcher besides being able to make them think that I don't exist is that I am able to keep tabs on every immortal on the planet. It's not like I'm hunting them or anything. It's more for the piece of mind of knowing that if there are two thousand immortals in the United States, then there are two thousand immortals that will not be coming after me.

I eventually sit up. I don't know how long I was laying there. When you've lived as long as I have, you lose all concept of time. To be honest, I couldn't even tell you how old I am. The only true measure of time that I have been able to use to distinguish the passing of time is the fashion trends of the era. The minutes stretch out into hours, the hours into months, the months into millennia, and suddenly it's 2005.

The memories of my fallen adversary still race through my mind; conversations that he had, people whom he had known. Jumbles of images that are impossible interpret, but suddenly, one image flashes before my eyes and is ingrained into my retinas. He didn't come here alone.

The days come and the days go, and I usually pay them no mind, but, today is different. Today sticks out among all the days of my five thousand plus year life. Because, today is the day that I die.

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Well here it is. I know what you are thinking. How the hell can you write a fic when you kill off your main character? Simple, when I originally came up with the idea for this fic,I thought about how cool it would be if they made a Methos spin off to the Highlander, but it was all done in retrospect after he died. So basically, it is as if you found and are reading his journal after he died and he is telling you what his life was like. You can still have interaction with Duncan and all the other characters from the show, but the entire series would be structured around, in my opinion, the best part of every episode. The flashbacks.

Well I hope that you liked this little ditty. If you really liked it, please tell me so in reviews, and if I get enough interest, I'll start posting chapters. Thanx for reading.


	2. The First Thirteen

Well, here is the first chapter of this fic. After seeing how many hits just the prologue got I wrote out an outline and charicter bios just for the hell of it. I just got so wrapped up in writing the bios, that I figured I may as well do the whole fic, so here it is. Thanx for reading, and please don't forget to review.

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The days come and the days go, and I usually pay them no mind, but, today is different. Today sticks out among all the days of my five thousand plus year life, because, today is the day that I die. A quick slash of the sword, a flicker of light, and it's all over.

You have an amazing amount of clarity the moments before your death. The nanoseconds before the final darkness seem to stretch out for an eternity. Something that is rather ironic given that I'm over 5000 years old. Many immortals find ways to ground themselves as they make their way through the years. It is a hard thing to go through life having to watch your friends and loved ones die and fade away into dust. As strange as it may sound, many immortals never make it through their first year, and those that do, never make it past their first half century. Not because they lose their heads due to inexperience. On the contrary, in matters of survival, most step up to the learning curve quite quickly. What makes things hard on most immortals is when people from their previous life as a mortal start dying off. After you die the first time, it's hard having to let go of all the loved ones of your former life. To them, you are dead. It's not like you can just show up on their door step and take them out for a pint. The easiest way is to just let them get on with their lives, and you start out on yours. But as they get older, and start dying on you, you lose them again, and losing someone you love twice in one lifetime is something that few have the constitution to handle.

Many immortals are constantly on the move. Partially to avoid being found by other immortals, but for the most part, mostly so that they don't form too many attachments to the mortal world. Granted, it may be a lonely existence, but many find that it is the best way to maintain their sanity. They move in, and move out, never staying in one place for too long, which for an immortal could be anywhere from a few decades to a century.

Then there are the social immortals. Immortals whom are not able to handle the solitary life. They travel through the centuries making friends with other immortals. They take a great risk living their lives in a circle of other immortals. Never sure if they or when their supposed friend will come for their head. As the gathering draws closer and closer, it is inevitable that you will have to face them one day. Some, like Duncan and Connor, were fortunate to have kinsmen to accompany them through the centuries. Duncan and Connor had each other, and I had my brother. From the day we were born, we were inseparable. We were born together, we fought together, and we became immortals together.

It is thought among believers of the Methos legend that I was the first immortal. On the contrary my brother, Lucipher, and I were the second immortals on this little blue ball. Actually, if you want to get technical, my brother was born a little before I was, so that would make me the third. My brother and I made our way through life trying to find meaning to our lives. It's easy now. If you become an immortal, all you need is for another immortal to fill you in on the rules, and send you on your way….. Well that is if they don't take your head first. But for me and my brother, it wasn't that simple. There were no rules for combat, there was no one around to explain to us what a quickening was, or about the gathering. All we knew was that for some reason, we could not die.

We both lay on some long forgotten battlefield to some long forgotten war in some forgotten long country. I remember glimpses of memory appearing to me as I lay in the darkness of death. I remember the battle. My brother and I stand back to back in the middle of the battlefield killing everything in sight. Our faces splattered with the blood of our fallen enemies. Their bodies, lying, eviscerated at our feet. We were twin terrors. When we were together, no one would stand a chance. When we fought, it was as if we could read each other's minds. When one of use dodged a lunging attacker, the other was right there to end their pathetic existence. But this time, I parried a blow, but Lucipher was not there to finish him off. I turn to see that some how, they had split us up, and five men had surrounded my brother. I fight my way through the battlefield towards my brother. I see Lucipher take out one of the warriors. I cut my way through the battle. Slashing through bone, smashing skulls, killing anyone who got in my way. It didn't matter if they were friend of foe. The shortest distance between two points is a straight line, and right now, I was carving one through that battle field.

I charge through the remaining four men, taking off one of their heads in the process. My brother is preoccupied fighting two men. I take out another one before someone pushes me into my brother. With lightning fast reflexes, Lucipher turns around and runs his sword right through me up to the hilt.. I didn't even feel it.

We gaze into each other's eyes. I see the horror in my brother's eyes as he watches the life slip from mine. Three enemy warriors take this opportunity to rush my brother. One of them stabs my brother through the back. They pull him away, he doesn't even fight back. Our eyes never leave each other until he finally disappears into a sea of bodies.

I lay in the darkness of death when I feel a sharp pain in my stomach. I feel someone rummaging through my clothes. No doubt grave robbers looking for valuables. I sit up and take in a deep breath. The woman, who was picking at my body like a vulture, falls back. Believing that I was some sort of demon, she screams and runs away from me in terror.

My vision is blurred, and there is a ringing in my ears. As a gut impulse, I call out for my brother.

"Lucipher!" My vision slowly starts to clear up. "Lucipher!" I survey my surroundings. The battlefield is carpeted with dead bodies.

I distinctively remember being stabbed. I feel around my abdomen. Sure enough, there is a hole in my clothes, and dried blood, but there was no wound. Perhaps that woman was right. Maybe I am a demon. After a lifetime living with a twin brother, a part of me starts to get terrified at the thought that I will be alone for the rest of my life. Suddenly, I hear a muffled voice calling out to me. I see a hand sticking out from a pile of bodies.

I dig through the corpses trying to find the source of the voice. I finally pull off the bodies, to find Lucipher groggily looking up at me. We spent hours searching the battlefield, rummaging through corpses, looking to see if there were others like us. Others who, for some reason, could not die. For the next century my brother and I went from battlefield to battlefield looking for other immortals.

It was early morning one morning. We had set up camp near a stream in what is present day Turkey. We had begun to think that we were the only immortals in the world when we felt that strange sensation for the first time. It woke us from a dead sleep. We didn't know what it was. It was like all the hairs on our body standing up on end, and some sort of electric current flowing through us. We almost never left each other's side, so it was the first time that we had ever sensed another immortal.

We unsheathed our weapons not knowing what to expect when a lone rider on a pale horse rides towards us through the morning mists.

"Greetings fellow immortals!" a voice calls out as a shady figure dismounts from his horse. "My name is Azriel"

"Fellow Immortals?" my brother warily asks. "We had begun to think that we were the only ones."

Azriel steps forward and offers his hand.

"Holt" I say as I hold my sword up to this stranger's throat. "How do we know that we can trust you?"

"Be calm friend, I mean you now harm," Azriel says while holding his hands up in a defensive posture. "and besides, we are immortal, it's not like we can kill each other.

Lucipher steps in and lowers my sword. "Yes Brother. Let's trust him. He is the first immortal that we have crossed paths with. This means that we are not alone. If he is immortal like us, then there may be more."

"More of what?" I expound. "Abominations of humanity like us?"

"I pray you sir," Azriel says calmly, "if you would just come with me, all will be explained."

"By whom?" I ask "You? From your appearance, you are barely twenty."

"As my appearance suggests, it is true that I was barely twenty when I first became an immortal, but my death was nearly fifty years ago."

"Then who? Your master?" I ask.

"I have no master!" Azriel remarks, breaking from his calm demeanor. "Our leader and the first immortal, Michalus, will explain all."

"Wait! There are more immortals?" Lucipher asks excitedly.

"I don't trust him." I whisper to my brother Lucipher.

"We must trust him, what other option do we have?" My brother says. "I love you brother, but we cannot persist to make out way through the centuries alone."

"I still don't know about any of this," I say hesitantly "but if it is what you want brother; I will go along with it for now."

It was a three day ride before we finally reached the base of what is now known as Mount Ararat. Azriel lead us through a secret pass up the mountain. It was the middle of winter. The bitter cold of the wind penetrated to your bones. I had begun to lose faith when I started to make out a dark shape in the distance through the blowing snow. As we approached, I was able to recognize that it was a building, and the closer we got, the bigger it got. When we finally reached our destination, I was amazed as to the shear size of the structure. A gust of warm air rushed out at us as the huge double doors opened, creaking loudly.

As the centuries passed, mortals came to believe that it was on Mt. Ararat where Noah's Biblical Ark landed. I have no idea where the biblical scholars got this notion. Of all the immortals in the world, I can assure you that there was no Ark, or a flood for that matter, but the first time that I walked through the secret mountain sanctum, I could see where mortals first got the idea for the story. Lucipher and I could not believe what we were seeing. The sound of foreign birds and the fragrances of strange tropical flowers bombard our senses. All things that should not be on the peak of a barren mountain, during the bitterest of winters was right before us; a menagerie of plants and animals.

Of all the beauty around us, it all paled in comparison to the beauty of the creature that approached.

"Azriel, you made it." said a beautiful woman with long golden blond hair flowing behind her as she greets Azriel with a hug "Everyone else is here….. Oh you've brought friends."

All through my life, I never believed in the existence of angels, but at that moment, I was in the presence of such beauty that I thought that I had somehow stumbled through the gates of heaven. Lucipher notices the blank expression on my face. "What is the matter Brother?" he asks quizzically. I can barely comprehend what he said. My eyes never left the blond hair beauty before us.

Azriel and this angel on earth dressed in a white gown walked towards us. "Porpheria, I would like to introduce you to Methos and Lucipher. They are Immortals as well."

She greets Lucipher cordially, and then turns to me. Our eyes meet, and all time seems to stop. After a long few seconds she remembers her manners. "G-Greetings dear sir" She says with her cheeks deeply flushed.

"Err Follow me please, Michalus and the others will want to meet you." Porpheria squeaks meekly.

"Pardon me miss, but how many others are there?" Lucipher asks Porpheria.

"Well counting you two, there are thirteen." Porpheria says before motioning for them to follow her.

"Come friends" Azriel says. "As I said before, all will be explained."

Porpheria takes Azriel's arm and they walk, arm and arm, though a big archway. She looks back over her shoulder at me, and her eyes beckon me to follow her.

Still hesitant about all of this, I give my brother a quick nod, and we follow Porpheria and Azriel through the archway.

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This chapter was shorter than what I usually write, but I wanted to get something posted given how long it has been since I up loaded the prologue. This has more of a set up for what is going to happen as I set up the story arch. I hope that you like this chapter, and based on what I have outlined for this story, I'm really looking forward to writing this fic. Thanx for reading and Please don't forget to review. 


	3. To Rule in Hell or Serve in Heaven?

First of all, I apologize for not posting for such a long time. What happened to me you may wonder… Life happened. I've currently moved from Michigan to Hawaii for a new job, and let me tell you, moving cross-country is a pain in the butt in its self. Then throw in crossing an ocean. Anyway, I'm pretty much settled in, well, at least settled in enough to start writing again, so I'm eager to pick up where I left off. Hope you like this chapter.

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My brother and I are lead into a giant hall by Azriel and Porpheria. Torches along the wall illuminate the room along with hundreds of candles on a hanging chandelier made of antlers. In the middle of the room, is a giant round table set up for a banquet. Servants scurry about while nine other individuals are spread out in groups talking to each other. I survey the room when I make eye contact with tall strapping man with shoulder length blond locks. He appears to be a healthy 35 year old, not much older than my brother and I was when we died. Once we make eye contact, everything in the room fades to black. I don't even notice that our two guides have left my brother and I in the archway.

Azriel walks up to this rather arrogant looking man and addresses him. He leans over slightly so that Azriel can whisper in his ear, but he never breaks eye contact with me. It was obvious as to what Azriel was telling him. Unexpectedly, Porpheria takes my gruff hardened hands. I look down at her hand in mine. The soft touch of her skin has all but caused me to forget about the golden haired man across the room.

Unbeknownst to me, but blatantly obvious to my brother, all eyes in the room are now upon us. I see people whispering to each other as they gaze upon us. Suddenly a deep bellowing voice disrupts the stillness of the room. "Welcome to Sanctuary our new immortal brethren." Which causes even more whispers among those in the great hall. "I am Michalus, leader and eldest of the First Ones." He says as we both lock eyes again.

"First Ones you say? First ones of what?" I ask, not breaking my stare. "First ones damned to walk this world for all eternity. First ones to never know the bliss of eternal rest!" My brother nudged up against me. No doubt signaling me not to overextend out welcome.

"We are the First Ones." Says Michalus "The first to be blessed with the gift of immortality, so that we may guide humanity out of the darkness."

"All my life, I thought that immortality was a curse." I say as I walk through the hall, towards Michalus. "And you all think that it is a gift? Gift for what?"

"We are immortal, and as such, he have the ability to, gain experience, and knowledge that is virtually impossible to acquire in a mortal lifetime. We are the blessed few who shall lead humanity with the benefit of our experience and knowledge."

"You speak of we, but you really mean you and your group of followers." I say as I finally stand before him and look him square in the face. "And where do my brother and I fit into your grand scheme for humanity?"

"If you wish, you may be right there by my side." He says without a hint of backing down. "Between the thirteen of us, there is no doubt, ten centuries of knowledge that we can share with both each other and with humanity. I have no doubt that you have traveled as far if not farther than any of us."

"Perhaps…" I say warily. "And what of you?"

"For the first 200 seasons, I like you passed the years wondering the world. Fighting in pointless wars trying to find meaning to my life."

"What do you know of my life!" I interrupt.

"Although you do not see it, we are the same. Over 320 seasons past, and I thought that I was alone in the world, but then I started to meet other like me, and we decided to come here to build Sanctuary. Here, away from the wars of man, we can keep safe the knowledge of the centuries until the time comes when humanity is ready."

I take a long hard look into the eyes of Michalus. I'm not sure if he really believes in his own rhetoric, but I could still sense that he was not a man to be reckoned with. "I grow weary of my days wandering the world. I cannot say right now whether there is anything that my brother or I can contribute, but with your permission dear sir, I offer up my brother's services and mine to you." To the applause of the group, Michalus and I go into a wary embrace, and I walk toward my brother. Porpheria leads me to a seat next to hers, and my brother and I sit to enjoy a feast the like we have never seen in our 100 some odd years.

The banquet continues on for hours. As my brother regales Azriel and the others with tales of out adventures together, Porpheria does little, but is able to hold my attention nevertheless. He stare into each other's making idol chitchat when Michalus' voice rings out across the table.

"And what of you friend Methos? Do you not wish to regale us with your exploits?"

"My exploits are my brother's exploits. I could not do the stories nearly as much justice as my brother." I say without even looking away from the beauty Porpheria.

"Tell me Methos, how old are you and your brother?" asks a pale, slender man with long white hair.

"And who are you sir?" I ask slightly miffed at the audacity he has to address me by name.

"I am Oberon, and aside from Michalus, I am the eldest of the First Ones."

I look at Oberon and quickly size him up as a far lesser man than I. "Although I cannot say for certain, but my brother and I died about 400 seasons ago." I say as I turn my attention back to Porpheria.

Strangely, just as I tell him my age, whispers and murmurs make their way across the room. I look to Porpheria, and she seems just as amazed as the others in the hall. I look to her for an explanation, to which she says; "Oberon and his lady Titania are estimated to have become immortals some 340 seasons ago. Michalus is rumored to have died 400 seasons ago as well."

"Well it appears that my brother and I have just moved to the top of the food chain here." I chuckle to myself. I look across the table to see a very disgruntled Oberon sitting next to an unimpressed Michalus.

Azriel leans towards us. "As the second eldest among us, you have the right to challenge Oberon for a position of leadership next to Michalus."

"I think that I may learn to like it here in Sanctuary." I say to my brother.

"I concede my right to challenge to you brother. I will follow your lead!"

"As do I!" Azriel adds.

"No… not yet." I whisper to my compatriots. "We wouldn't want to over extend our welcome yet." I stand up and address the group. "The Lovely Porpheria tells me that my age gives me the right to challenge Oberon for his position as an elder of the group. As a sign of respect and gratitude for such a warm welcome for my brother and I, I respectfully forgo my right to challenge." Remarks that garner even more murmurs from the group.

"But why brother?" Lucipher whispers as I take my seat. "Why would I bother fighting over Michalus' table scraps? We will bide our time brother, and when the time is right, we will fight for more than mere table scraps."

For an immortal, the years pass like mere hours for a mortal. My brother and I have now lived among the First Ones in Sanctuary for over a half-century. Although I find it often difficult to stomach Michalus' constant rhetoric, I sense that he has made the mistake of dismissing how dangerous I can really be. Oberon, his lady Titania, and their stooge Ryah on the other hand always looked upon me with wary eyes. Oberon's bitch, Ryah was always nearby. Although she was one of the best sword fighters I have ever seen, her mannerisms were anything but stealthy. My brother and I kept a low profile while living among the other immortals. But that didn't mean that we never flexed out muscle once in awhile.

One day I and my constant companions, Lucipher, Azriel, and, of course, the lovely Porpheria found Oberon and Titania practicing their swordplay in the menagerie. We were soon followed by

"I see that you have been practicing my fair lady."

"I know not what you mean my lord." She says as she parries Oberon's attacks. "I've always been this good, it is you who have gotten slower with age." Lady Titania says just before she lungs forward slicing Oberon's sleeve.

Oberon steps to the side, and almost trips over a stone. He looks over at his leave in amazement. "My shirt!"

Many of the other immortals are in the menagerie watching the duel. The two thinkers, Leonatus, a lanky older gentlemen whom by first glimpse you would think that he was eldest of all of us, and Josephus, a dark skinned man rumored to come from the valley of the two rivers; were no doubt discussing the mechanics of the two fighters. Belal, a short and stocky man with short black hair, and Ezeel, a muscular yet jovial fellow with curly red locks, arrived in the menagerie shortly after we did. Lilith, a short, fare skinned, petite woman, and Ryah sat on the side enjoying the show.

With new resolve, Oberon goes back on the offensive. Lady Titania blocks and parries Oberon's advances. She is being driven backwards by Oberon's attacks, and does not notice the log behind her. She falls over the log, and Oberon jumps on top of the log to see his fallen foe.

"You still have to learn to be aware of your surroundings my fair lady." To which Titania kicks the log causing Oberon to fall to the ground. "And you must learn to not underestimate you opponent my lord." Which causes the many on lookers to chuckle.

The sound of a lone clap makes its way through the menagerie. Everyone looks around for the source. The sound grows louder when Michalus steps out from behind a tree. "Very nice Oberon, would you honor me with a duel?"

"I will have to decline that request my lord. I would not be much of a challenge for you." Oberon says respectfully.

"I will Duel with you…" I say, which causes Porpheria to take hold of my hand. "If you would honor my humble request?"

Michalus gives me a long look before a grin appears on his stern face. "I can and will honor your request, Dear Methos."

I walk into the clearing with my sword drawn. Michalus takes Oberon's sword, and bows to me. I return the courtesy, and we begin the duel. At first, we circle the clearing trying to size each other up. Occasionally, we clang swords to let each other know that we are there. Suddenly, Michalus lets lose a flurry of attacks, I dodge and block them as best I can, but being far larger than I, his blows land like a hammer. He swings his sword. The force of it hitting my blade almost knocks my sword out of my hand, and sends me falling backward. I quickly get up to my feet just in time to block another blow from this sword. Despite his size, he is amazingly agile for a man his size. He lets out a scream as he lunges his sword at me again. He knocks my sword out of my hand. I dive for my sword, but he hits me over the back of my head. He swings at me again. I dive out of the way, and kick out his legs from beneath of him.

As the duel continues, I realize that his strength is in fact his weakness. I, being far more dexterous than he, start to turn the duel to my favor. I disarm him, sending his sword flying into the air, and I catch it in my free hand. I look upon Michalus, and with a pleasant, yet insincere smile, I hand it back to him, and we continue the duel. While he uses strength, I use finesse. He swings his sword high above his head, and brings it crashing down, causing sparks to fly as it strikes a boulder. As the lumbering idiot tries to regain his balance I let lose a flurry or attacks of my own. Far faster than he, I reach in and playfully slap him across his face.

Whispers become obvious as it soon becomes obvious to everyone watching that I am more skilled in the art of swordplay. We exchange blows, and again, I send his sword flying into the air, catching it in my free hand. Obviously annoyed, he bows and offers his hand. I return his sword, and we begin for a third time.

As Michalus becomes more and more angered, the duel turns more and more to my favor. However, I start to get cocky. I start to get distracted by thoughts of how embarrassed Michalus would be after this lesson that I am giving him. How, if he were mortal, I could kill him whenever I wanted. I soon realize my folly, and draw my attention back to my opponent. It is in that split second that Michalus knocks me to the ground. He swings his sword at me, and I roll out of the way. Michalus stands over me with his sword raised aver his head. Suddenly, I slip into a mindset where my instincts take over. He swings his sword down at me. Everyone gasps as I dodge his attack, and spring forward, slashing into his side with my sword, a move that would be fatal to a mortal.

I turn around to see Michalus hunched over, and clutching his side. Realizing that I have gone to far, I drop my sword and rush to Michalus' side. "I apologize my Lord. I was caught up in the moment." I say as I help him to his feet.

Oberon and Ryah try to rush to his aid, both looking like they were ready to charge at me with only a breath of a signal from Michalus. On the opposite side of the menagerie, my brother and Azriel both ready themselves in the event that a battle were to break out. The tension among the group builds to a fever pitch before it is finally defused by Michalus.

"Do not concern yourself Methos, I admit that I to was carried away in the moment. Although it would be a deathblow to a normal man, to an immortal, it tis but a scratch." Michalus says as Oberon and Ryah help him stand. "I applaud you dear Methos, you are truly a great warrior." With the assistance of Oberon and Ryah, Michalus leaves the menagerie with Titania, Lilith, and Belal following close behind.

Porpheria, being the one who usually renders medical aid looks to me. I give her a reassuring nod. She runs to my side, gives me a gentle kiss, and then hurries off to tend to Michalus' injury. I had done it. I had drawn first blood, and everyone saw me do it. Had he have been a mortal; by the rules of combat his throne would now be mine. Ezeel had left to check on his lord Michalus, so Belal, whom had also sworn loyalty to me, joined our group.

"Damn his immortality!" Commented Belal. "If there was only a way to kill him, you could take your rightful place as leader."

"I agree. Why should we hide out here in on this mountain when we should be conquering the mortals and ruling over them as gods." Adds Azriel.

"Patience… Our time will come."

"But when Brother? I cannot stomach Michalus' much longer. And I would gladly carve that smirk off of that pretentious ass Oberon."

"As would any of us brother."

"Methos, now is the time to make your move" Urges Azriel. "He is wounded. The two thinkers will not interfere, and neither will Lady Porpheria nor Ezeel. If we can drive out Michalus, Oberon and his two bitches, Sanctuary will be ours."

Meanwhile, in Michalus' room, Porpheria has arrived to tend to his wounds. "Fare Porpheria to the rescue again." Announces Michalus.

"Are you alright my lord." Asks Oberon flanked by Titania and Ryah at his side.

"Your concern is appreciated but misplaced Friend Oberon. We are Immortal, and nothing in the world has been found to kill us."

"Tis not your health we are concerned my lord. We f…" Says Titania before Oberon who glances down at Porpheria stops her.

"Lady Porpheria may we please have the room?" Asks Oberon.

She looks at the three standing immortals at the foot of Michalus' bed. She looks to Michalus for approval. He gives a slight nod at which time She gets up from Michalus' bedside, and quietly exits the room. Closing the heavy wooden door behind her.

"My lord, we fear that Methos will use this sign of weakness as an impetus to rise up against you." Says Titania.

"Nonsense. Methos is our brother."

"My lord you underestimate Methos' ambition." Oberon adds. "He has already recruited Azriel and Belal to his side."

As Michalus and his followers discuss Methos' intentions, Porpheria stands by the door straining to listen to what they are saying.

"If there was a way to kill an immortal, he would not hesitate try and take your throne."

"Do you believe this truly?" Asks Michalus

"We must expel him and his brother." Oberon insists, "I believe that if he is forced to leave, Azriel and Belal will remember who has all of the power, and they will remain loyal to you."

Porpheria stands shocked on the other side of the door. The though that they would drive out her beloved hurt her deeply. Suddenly, she is startled as a hand touches her shoulder from behind. She spins around to see Ezeel standing before her.

"How is our lord Michalus?" He asks.

"Err… uh… he will be fine in a few hours." Porpheria stammers. "Ezeel?"

"Yes dear lady?"

"What do you think about Methos?"

"He seems a worthy man."

"What do you mean Worthy?"

"Worthy for you of course."

Porpheria blushes deeply. "Why do you say that?"

"Dear sweet Porpheria, it is obvious to everyone the love that you have for him, and he has for you."

"S-So, what if he were to leave? Would I be wrong if I were to go with him?"

"Truthfully, I and everyone else here will miss you, but if going with him would make you happy, then I will be happy for you."

Tears start to stream from Porpheria's eyes.

"Why do you cry fare Porpheria?"

"Tis nothing Ezeel, I-I must attend to something." Porpheria turns and runs towards the menagerie leaving Ezeel who suddenly gets a sinister expression on his face.

Moments later Porpheria runs into the menagerie and almost tackles me to the ground. She pulls me into a deep embrace. I look down at her with a puzzled expression.

"What is the matter my love?"

"To the corners of the world. I will go with you anywhere." Porpheria looks up at me with tear-wracked eyes.

"What are you talking about?"

"Michalus and Oberon are at this moment discussing your expulsion from Sanctuary."

"What! For a duel injury?" My brother protests.

"No, Oberon has planted in his head that you plot against him."

"The Bastard!" Belal exclaims. "Of course Oberon would use Michalus' trust in him to discredit you! He fears that you would challenge his claim for his position."

"Do you not see my lord? Now is the time to act." Azriel urges.

"Yes Brother, he is weak. We will make short work of Oberon and his bitches, then Michalus will be helpless."

"Why do you speak like this?" Porpheria looks confused as she starts to realize what she has just done. She slowly starts to back away from the group. "Y-you plot against Michalus… What Oberon said was true."

"Porpheria…" I try to calm her down. "This isn't so, we just have to protect our rights. As immortals, he have the same right to be here as Michalus and his stooges."

"N-No… Do you really love me? H-Have you been using me to get closer to Michalus?"

"My love!" I tell her. "I could never do a thing. I have loved you from the moment I first set foot in Sanctuary."

"Then run away. Leave Michalus and Oberon to their seclusion. We can go anywhere in the world together."

"No! I will not be driven away from my birthright! We as immortals should rule over humanity as gods, and Sanctuary will be the beginning of our empire. Join me Porpheria, and I will rule the world with you by my side as queen."

"N-No! I don't even know you!" She says as she backs away from me. "What happened to the man that I fell in love with?"

"I am the man that you fell in love with, you were just too blind to see the real man that I am."

Porpheria, tears in her eyes, turns to run away. No doubt to warn that fool Michalus of my plans, but she is stopped by my brother who knocks her out with the bolster of his sword, and then lays her gently on the floor.

"I apologize sweet Porpheria," My brother says solemnly. "I do not envy you for the headache you will have when you awake."

I kneel down at Porpheria's side. I lean over and give her a kiss on her sweet lips. "Forgive me my love. When you awake, you will be Queen of Sanctuary."

I walk up to my brother and place my hand on his shoulder, and he does the same to me. "Brother, will you go with me to claim our rightful place as masters of Sanctuary?"

"Of course Brother, I will follow you into the pits of darkness."

I turn to Azriel and place my hand on his shoulder. "Azriel, will you go with me to claim our rightful place as masters of Sanctuary?"

"My lord I would gladly offer up my life for yours."

I finally turn to Belal and I place my hand upon his shoulder. "Belal, will you go with me to claim our rightful place as masters of Sanctuary?"

"Yes my lord!"

"Then come my Brothers, it is time that we take destiny into our hands."

We begin to make our way to Michalus' room, but we are met by Ezeel in the corridor.

"Greetings friends. What mischief are you attending to?" He unknowingly jokes.

"None friend Ezeel, My brother Lucipher says cordially. "We mean to inquire as to the health of Michalus."

"If wish to inquire, then you may do so yourselves. He has just, recently gone to the great hall."

"How were his injuries?" Belal Asks.

"None that were fatal, but he will not be partaking in any duels anytime soon. Especially with you master Methos."

"And what or Oberon and his ladies?" I ask Ezeel.

"They were not with him last I saw."

"Thank you Ezeel. We are off to check on the health of Michalus. Good day." I tell him as I lead the way to the great hall.

Moments later, I throw open the double doors to the great hall to find Michalus sitting in his usual seat. We draw our swords. "Greetings my lord!"

Unexpectedly, We hear the doors shut behind us. I turn to see Ezeel, Oberon and his bitches with swords drawn. "I see that I may have underestimated you Ezeel."

"Tis always the lighthearted one that you least expect for betrayal Methos."

"Take care of them!" I yell. "But Michalus is mine!"

I charge at Michalus, but before I can get to him, Oberon cuts me off. My brother squares off against the larger Ezeel, but size has almost nothing to do with combat. Lucipher makes short work of the lumbering oaf and knocks him unconscious by driving the hilt of his sword into the side of his head. Lucipher then charges at Michalus. Lucipher spins the sword in his hand as the two size each other up. The two lock swords while Oberon and I continue our battle. It is obvious to me that even though Oberon is not as physically imposing as Michalus, he is a far better swordsman. But he's not as good as me. I bring my sword around, and run him through, driving my sword into his belly to the hilt. However, I make the mistake of forgetting that he, like I, is an immortal. I pause to look him straight in the eye, but I feel a sharp pain in my side. I look down to see that Oberon has stuck me with a dagger. I push him away, and pull my sword from his gullet. Remarkably, he remains standing, and appears eager to continue. I reach over and pull Oberon's dagger out of my side. I throw the dagger at him, but Oberon easily knocks it away with his sword. We smile at each other before charging once again into combat.

Meanwhile, my brother and Michalus have engaged in full combat. Like I did earlier in the day, my brother has no problem handling Michalus' barbarian like fighting style. Michalus swings his sword high above his heat and brings it down towards Lucipher's head. My brother easily rolls out of the way, and with a lightning fast reflexes, thrust upward, piercing Michalus' heart. Titania, who is currently pinned up against a wall by Belal, sees that Michalus is in distress. She pushes Belal off of her and throws her sword across the room. Michalus is now on his hands a knees before my brother. Lucipher raises his sword high above his head and is about to sever Michalus' head from his body. All of a sudden, Lucipher stops. He drops his sword, and falls to his knees. He looks down to see that he has been impaled by Titania's sword. Suddenly, Michalus sits up, and swings his sword, decapitating Lucipher.

I see my brother's head separate from his body. "BROTHER!" I yell as I try to rush to his side. Oberon maneuvers himself in front of me, blocking my way. Weary of his interference, I swing my sword, cutting off his right arm at the elbow. Oberon falls to his knees as I charge at Michalus. "LUCIPHER!"

Abruptly, I am sent flying by a bolt of lightning, which seemingly came out of nowhere. Everyone in the Great Hall stop what they are doing as a strange mist descends upon us. I look over at my brother's body, which is now emanating a strange glow. The lightning intensifies. Ryah is sent flying into a wall by an errant lightning bolt. Then Michalus lets out a blood-curdling scream as bolts of lightning shoot through the great hall, lifting him up into the air. The giant wooden table in the middle of the room is reduced to splinters, and the ornate tapestries hanging on the wall burst into flames. His body is wracked with pain as the full force of what is later named the quickening enters into his body. As the quickening subsides, he is slowly lowered back to the ground.

No one is sure what has just happened. The doors to the great hall a slowly opened as Porpheria assisted by Lilith and the two thinkers hurry into the hall. Everyone is at a stand still. For centuries, we all thought that there was no way for us to die, and with just a swing of the sword, everything changed. The sudden sense of mortality, something we had all but forgotten, was disorienting to us, but for me, there was only one thing on my mind… Revenge! Pick myself up, my wounds still bleeding, and I drag my sword towards Michalus. Michalus stands up. I charge at him attacking him with a flurry of swings. I become confused because Michalus' fighting style has seemed to change. It's not like the style he had before. It is different yet similar some how. As I continue my attack, Michalus is able to counter every move that I make. It's almost as if he knows every move that I'm going to make before I make it. This was not the man I dueled in the menagerie. Fighting him was like fighting my… brother. Then I see it. As Michalus stands waiting for my next onslaught he spins the sword in his hand. Something that I have seen my brother do on countless occasions in many o battlefield and training session. But how was this possible? Finally, my injuries get the better of me. I feel light headed due to the loss of blood, and collapse into a heap at Michalus' feet.

I have no idea how long I was out. It feels like days have passed when I'm resurrected in the great hall. When I finally awaken, Azriel and Belal have already gathered their things and have horses packed and ready to leave. I look at Michalus, Oberon, and Titania who are standing smugly near the door to the great hall.

"And what will you do with me now." I ask.

"You are fortunate that Michalus is more forgiving than I." Oberon says condescendingly. "If it were up to me, I would have taken your head while you slept."

"You are too kind Oberon for if the tables were turned I would defile your body first, and then take your head. By the way, how's the arm?"

"Bastard!" Oberon tries to draw his sword with his left hand, but is stopped by Michalus.

"I once thought of you as a friend Methos, but I see now that you and I have different ambitions in relation to the direction of humanity." Says Michalus. "You are Banished Methos. You and your two followers are to leave Sanctuary, and never to return."

"And what of my brother's body?"

"I have seen to it that a funeral pyre has been set up outside the gates to Sanctuary. You may light the pyre, then you are to leave this mountain."

"How nice of you. But know this Michalus, you can't hide on this mountaintop forever. You will have to leave Sanctuary eventually, and I will be waiting." That said, I turn to join my comrades at the Sanctuary Gates.

An hour passes and Azriel, Belal and I are ready to leave. Oberon and Titania have come to see us off. In actuality, they are no doubt there to make sure that we leave. As I load my horse's pack, I cannot help but to keep looking over my shoulder in hopes that Porpheria will at the last minute decide to join us. Yet, it would be unfair of me to as such a beautiful flower to try and grow in the wastelands that I am now doomed to wander.

I mount my horse, and the giant doors to Sanctuary are opened. The cold gusty air blows through the giant doors. Azriel, Belal, and I ride into the cold. Before I finally leave through the arch, which I had first passed through a half century ago, one of the mortal servants hands me a torch. I pass through the giant Arch and turn around. "Mark my words Oberon, Sanctuary will be mine!"

As the giant doors begin to close, I can see the smug expression on Oberon's face. The cold bites into our bones. As promised, my brother lies on a giant funeral pyre near the entrance. Although I am recognized as the oldest living immortal, it was my brother who achieved true immortality. News of my brother's death spread quickly among the mortal servants. Soon, mortals everywhere knew of the story of how Lucipher fell from paradise at the hands of the angel Michael. It is true that the victors write history. Nothing is more evident of that as my brother being relegated to the embodiment of evil incarnate, and Michalus elevated to celestial deity. To the mortal world, Michael the archangel served at the right hand of god, but to me, he was a bug under my boot. He was the means to an end. He was an obstacle to my goal. I go mull over all of these things in my head as I gaze into the flame of my torch. Out of the corner of my eye, I see long blond hair flowing out of a window. I look up to see Porpheria looking down at us. She extends her hand out into the cold air as if reaching out to me. It takes all the strength that I have to turn away from that lovely face. I say my final goodbyes to my brother, and throw the torch onto the pyre. The air around the pyre gets warmer as flames engulf my brother's body.

I turn to my two comrades. "Take a last look at Sanctuary, my brothers for when we return, it will be ours." We then ride off into the falling snow. The piercing cold was no doubt painful to her soft skin, but Porpheria remained at the window until we disappeared into the white beyond.

* * *

Well, I hope that this chapter was worth the wait. I apologize if the fight scenes sucked, but I really have no clue how to describe a sword fight. Like most people, all of my exposure to sword fighting has been through either television or movies. Thanks for reading, and please don't forget to review. 


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